Disclaimer: Nope.
A/N: Another purely descriptive chapter and I took some liberties with the Mysterium, but what the hey, it's more fun that way. And the text break is not working again. Sorry.
Katryn spent the next two and a half days poring over volume IV of the Commentaries while Martin was busy with the other three. Both of them became so immersed that the outside world took second place. The toll was more obvious on Martin's face than the Elf's. He soon had deep, dark circles under his normally clear blue eyes and he was eating less and less. The magic of both the words and the repetitive stanzas of worshiping Mehrunes correctly seemed to have bound him to the books.
The Elf, meanwhile, only succeeded in getting more and more frustrated with her translations. She was all too eager to get away from her work. The sentences were becoming jumbled nonsense, adding the extra task of having to unscramble the words and set them in the correct order. Although the cult ways were fascinating, she had no desire to get any more involved than she had to and the added frustration of what she was going through at the moment was just an affirmation. Jauffre sensed this and he was also concerned about Martin's drastic character change. He sought out Katryn on that third day. She had claimed that table in the main hall and the others were learning not to disturb her or anything that she was working on. Today she seemed antsier than ever and for once, he thought that maybe he was pushing both her and the priest a little too hard.
"Gwynyth," He said as he walked up to her. The red-orange eyes flashed up and her lips were parted as though she was ready to reprimand him severely but he spoke first, "Take the afternoon off and spend some time with Martin."
Katryn frowned up at him although she dropped the quill eagerly enough. The frustration was waning and slowly being replaced with the familiar secretive amusement.
"Getting soft, Jauffre?" She questioned and stood, her hands rubbing her lower back.
"Martin needs a break and he won't listen to me," He replied briskly, ignoring her comment, "He'll probably be more willing to sit and talk with you. I'll send him out."
The frown was back but the grandmaster had already turned away. Katryn thought on that and told herself firmly that he just meant Martin appreciated her friendship. They returned moments later and the Elf was shocked to see the change in Martin. His face was pale and thin and his shoulders were sagging as though he carried the weight of the world upon them. A pang went through her as she realized she hadn't really considered him over the past couple of days. She had been taking her meals with Baurus and a few of the other Blades, not thinking about it when she didn't see the priest. Now that she did, she knew that he had missed several of those meals. She forced herself not to say anything about it and instead smiled gently at him.
"Go out and get some fresh air," Jauffre said, pushing a small basket into the Elf's arms, "Just don't go outside the walls. We have to be very-"
"Careful. Yes, we know. Thank you for the concern," Martin interrupted with a tone of long-suffering. He was tired of having every single movement he made watched like a hawk. The whole thing was exhausting.
Katryn couldn't help but smile. Martin had started to come into his own, getting more and more comfortable being himself and she was pleased to see that he would not allow anyone to walk over him.
"Come on, Martin," She told him before Jauffre could respond, "I think both of us need to get away from these books."
She settled the basket more firmly on her arm and headed for the door. Martin cast one last impatient look at the grandmaster and then went after Katryn. The Elf had opened the heavy oak door and was stepping into the sunshine. Martin fell in beside her and let his eyes rove over the courtyard. Men and women alike were busy in the practice field under the watchful, experienced gazes of both Baurus and the Khajiit captain Steffan. Across from these, the horses grazed idly, enjoying the beautiful weather. All around them there was the noise of the wooden practice weapons, the harsh calls of the captains and the repetitive clash of steel coming from the blacksmith.
"Let's go around to the back," Katryn said, descending the short flight of steps, "It will be quieter, I think."
They turned the corner and continued walking in companionable silence. Katryn was right; the back of the Temple was much calmer. The wall was high here and the Elf spotted a built-in ladder in the stone facade. She went to it immediately.
"Are you afraid of heights?" She asked as she tucked the basket into her elbow and grabbed hold of the metal rungs.
"No. Was that supposed to be a challenge?" He replied, his rather wan face splitting into a smile and allowing the old Martin to shine through.
"I hadn't intended for it to be," The Elf said, lifting herself easily, "But I was here first so I'd win either way."
"I don't think that it works that way," Martin answered and followed after her.
Katryn grinned but didn't let herself become distracted. The wall was taller than she had originally thought and although the ladder held up, the combined weight of both of them made it creak unpleasantly.
"It only does if there's one ladder," She called back as she reached the top and hoisted herself up effortlessly.
Martin chuckled and glanced around the top of the wall. Two sentries were posted further down but the corner that they had reached was clear. He walked to the edge and lifted himself onto the top portion. It was thick enough for them to perch comfortably and he patted the stone beside him.
"Come on, it's even warmer up here."
Katryn handed him the basket and eased her body up next to him. She dangled her legs over the side, mimicking his posture. The view before her was incredible. The mountains surrounding them were still dusted with snow and the slight breeze had just the smallest chill. Blue sky touched the majestic peaks and just below the snow, there were granite cliffs, followed by the deep, rich green of the forests. Through the woods closer to the Temple, worn animal paths were visible, zigzagging erratically around shrubs and boulders. A wide stream flowed from the outlet at the base of the Temple before disappearing into the dense woods.
"Should we see what Jauffre gave us?" Martin asked, his voice breaking through her awe.
She glanced at him and saw that he was already holding the basket in his lap, lifting the cloth cover that had been pinned down.
"Probably more paperwork," She muttered in reply and turned her attention back to the view. The city of Bruma wasn't visible from this vantage point but she could spot a few thatched roofed cottages sprinkled below.
The priest grinned at her as he laid the cloth aside. The basket contained bread and meat and a block of cheese. There was also a small bottle of wine and Martin wondered just how long Jauffre intended for them to be gone. Although the Elf's words were spoken in jest, Martin couldn't help but take a closer look just to make sure that she wasn't right. A small chuckle made him glance at her and he saw that she was staring at him in amusement.
"He told us to take a break," She said, her eyes dancing, "I think he meant it."
Martin smiled with chagrin and handed the meat over to her. He spread the cheese and bread onto the cloth that he had placed between them. Shrugging as he began slicing the cheese with a small knife, he replied,
"Well, he wants to get this done and he doesn't seem to understand those words. I thought maybe this was another ploy to get something else accomplished."
Katryn took up a piece of the cheese and bit into it. She allowed her gaze to slide from his as she nodded in agreement. Jauffre was certainly pushing hard and it was understandable, but she knew that both she and Martin were getting worn thin. The priest especially.
"How are your studies coming?" She asked, not sure why she chose this topic. It was the one they were out here to avoid after all.
He sighed and busied himself with popping the cork loose in the wine bottle. The Commentaries were constantly in his head, haunting his dreams and making it difficult for him to focus on everyday things. He wasn't sure how the magic bound him to the books but it was a very strong enchantment and one that did its job well.
"Long and rather confusing," He answered finally, "The worship of Mehrunes involves letting go of everything and it's hard to imagine that people are willing to do so. Especially when there are other temples that don't demand it."
Katryn shrugged her slender shoulders and accepted the wine bottle.
"I do not think it's so much a demand as an incentive," She observed and there was a tautness in her voice that suggested she was not as calm as she portrayed herself, "Teaching that you must give everything up just to be called a member of the cult probably encourages some that have already lost everything. If it was to happen to you and you were offered the chance to have some semblance of a family, wouldn't you be tempted?"
"But they don't mention anything like that. You are to give your things up, not seek them out after you have squandered it all," Martin argued, his blue gaze becoming more forceful; passionate as he spoke, "I haven't come across any passages that suggests their outreach is solely for the destitute."
"That is not what I said," The Elf replied sharply and her accent seemed to be more pronounced, letting Martin know she was getting irritated, "I merely meant that the less fortunate are their most likely targets. They would be more quickly whipped into a fervor over what they believe to be the injustice of an oppressive government. The poor would feel they're being given an opportunity to lash out at those they think have wronged them and because they're destitute, they know they have nothing to lose."
Martin looked at his companion with interest, wondering if this was a personal vendetta or if these were her true views. The conviction with which she spoke made him lean toward the latter, but she tended to be so enigmatic that he couldn't be sure.
"You're very passionate about this," He said and took a slice of meat, "Is it just your mindset or something more?"
The Elf glanced at him. She was surprised that he had been so worried about ruling justly. He had the ability to empathize with and understand what others left unspoken and he wasn't at all afraid to ask more personal questions. He would have no trouble at all if he kept his head cool and level and she knew that he would do a job well done.
"I don't think these things should be forced," She answered and met his pale blue eyes, once more struck at how beautiful they were, "We should not impose our own ideals on others simply because they are less fortunate."
"Even if it's for the better?" He questioned, having seen some good come out of exactly what she was opposing, "For the improvement of their status?"
"The use of brutal force does not always work," Her fire colored eyes were flaring up more brightly as she grew more determined to make him see her side of this, "Indeed it hardly ever ends well. When the common folk think their way of life is in danger, they will do whatever they must to protect their own. Which leaves the entire situation worse when everything is said and done."
"How do you find the energy to keep your convictions so strong?" Martin asked her, wishing that he had her staunch beliefs.
She smiled that enigmatic smile and her eyes went back to their normal fiery gleam. The pointed tips of her ears quirked a little and she had no problem answering him.
"Those placed in positions of power can take a lot from you: home, possessions, family and friends, but your convictions are your own. If you allow those to be taken from you, you lose hope and hope is the most important thing to keep a firm hold on. It's the one thing that prevents you from falling into the deepest despair. If it's gone, you truly lose everything."
Martin was looking at her avidly, soaking in everything she was saying and not able to argue with a word of it.
The Temple was quiet and dark, most of the Blades were sound asleep, but the fire in the main hall was still stoked and a lone figure was hunched over one of the tables. Katryn had turned the wick of her lamp all the way up to allow more light to flood the table and she was writing furiously. The words were still jumbled but she had gotten so adept at the translation portion that it was less infuriating. She knew that it had to be well after three in the morning as the watch had changed three times since she sat down at half past nine. Her eyes were starting to protest to the dim light and her hand was tiring with the non-stop writing. Having finally reached the halfway mark she couldn't bring herself to go to bed just yet. She finished her current chapter and placed the quill into the ink pot. Sitting back and rubbing at her lower back, her red-orange eyes went over the papers spread in front of her: the neatly stacked pile of completely filled parchment, the one before her that was half covered with writing and the sheaf that was rapidly depleting.
She rubbed at her eyes and sat forward again, making up her mind that she needed some rest. Her gaze fell on the translations and she thought of her conversation with Martin earlier that day. She was so convinced that the cult was soliciting the destitute, now more than ever before. The writing encouraged the upheaval of oppressors and Katryn was sure that this was supposed to mean those in authority.
Baurus had given her an interesting file of papers as well. Tar-Meena, knowing that Baurus was traveling north, had sent several notes and copies of information to the different Mage leaders in the few northernmost towns. Since the Redguard was a common sight in Bruma, always on the lookout for any news that would be of use, he was given the file almost as soon as it arrived and he, in turn, handed it over to Katryn. It contained more history on Camoran that she had not been able to read through just yet and also the intriguing hint that the location of the cult's head quarters was hidden inside the books themselves. Since she was given the papers just that afternoon and Martin had already been sequestered away with Jauffre, she hadn't been able to tell the priest any of this information and she wasn't even sure which book it was in.
Her hands brushed the lamp in front of her as she went to lower the wick and leave the mess until the next day. She felt herself wandering back to the secret hidden in the pages and instead her hands went for her stack of finished work. Pulling it to her, she tugged the lamp closer as well. Her attention was focused completely on this task and she seemed to gain more energy now that she had a different project ahead of her. For the better part of the next hour, Katryn scoured through her translations, trying to find any passage that would fit the description of a riddle. Soon the table was in even more turmoil, the papers were scattered everywhere now and she seemed to ignore the fact that they were becoming jumbled together out of order. Finally she tossed the last one away from her in disgust and ran her hands through her mussed hair. She leaned forward, elbows on the table and dropped her chin into her palm. Her eyes roved over the papers and the now buried book. A riddle in the pages? Tar-Meena, surely you could have done better! Given me the slightest aid! She pulled the book from underneath the pile and flipped through the pages idly, thinking deeply. A riddle... A sudden thought hit her and something in the depths of her mind seemed to click. I merely meant the less fortunate are their most likely targets. Her words from that afternoon echoed in her head, mocking her almost and she realized where she needed to look. Her hands flew across the papers and sent a majority of them flying to the ground as she uncovered the ink pot and quill. She propped the book open again and grabbed a clean piece of parchment. As soon as she finished she jumped to her feet, nearly sending the chair tumbling into the fire.
Not waiting another moment, she flew down the passage with steps that never made a sound. She skidded to a stop outside Jauffre's door, her bare feet slipping on the smooth, worn flagstone. The room was unlocked and the interior was pitch black and completely silent. She left the door open to allow the dim gleam of the torches to flicker across the stone floor. The grandmaster was motionless and his breathing was deep and even, but Katryn knew better than to go by his appearance. Indeed, her fingers didn't have a chance to brush his bare shoulder before his hand locked around her wrist and he pulled her a little closer, holding her captive. She saw the movement of his other hand underneath his pillow and she reacted.
"Jauffre," She said sharply, not wanting any alarm raised, "I have something to show you."
It took him a moment to register who she was and as soon as he did, he released her and sat up, lighting the lamp beside his bed. He rubbed at his eyes and then looked at her rather severely. The Elf ignored this and perched on the edge of his mattress, brandishing the parchment in her hands.
"I was a fool," She began, "I was making it too hard on myself... again. Tar-Meena said the location of the head quarters was hidden in the books, I just never thought..." Looking down at her writing, she continued in a soft voice, "I just never thought it would be so simple. What I mean to say is, I've found it."
Jauffre didn't quite understand what she was telling him but her clear excitement encouraged him to reach out and pluck the paper from her blue-black hand. He angled it into the light and then frowned as he read it aloud.
"Green Emperor Way Where Tower Touches Mid-day Sun. Green Emperor Way? That's obviously the Imperial City. What tower?" He shooed the Elf from his bed and flopped the blankets back, revealing his bare chest and long, pant clad legs. He began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back, "Where Tower Touches Mid-day Sun?"
Katryn's quick eyes followed him with an uncharacteristic air of impatience. She had spent nearly three days on the damn book and she was frustrated to have the answers so close but not have anything done about it. Her determined personality was silently screaming at the grandmaster to do something but her resolute, cool self was keeping firm hold on her tongue.
Jauffre turned to her again quite suddenly and grabbed a linen shirt from the chest at the foot of his bed. In the pale lamp light his eyes shone brightly with exhilaration.
"I'm going to go wake Martin. He was asking me about Prince Camoril yesterday, that may be our link," He was speaking much more quickly than usual, "Go and see if anyone has brewed coffee yet. If not, wake someone or do it yourself. We have to discuss this, together."
Katryn nodded, biting her tongue more firmly to keep quiet and obeyed. Both he and Martin were waiting for her by the time she returned to the main hall. The priest was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and he reached eagerly for the coffee she brought with her. Jauffre, meanwhile, was bright eyed and more energized than usual.
"Sorry," She said as she sat down, "I ended up brewing it myself and it took longer than I expected."
Jauffre looked the Elf over. Her dark skin hid any evidence of fatigue well but her eyes were burning less brightly and her slight shoulders sagged a little as she took up her own mug. Martin noticed this change as well and he asked before Jauffre could.
"Have you slept at all, Katryn?"
She glanced between the two in surprise. Both were looking at her with concern though Jauffre's was less obvious than Martin's. Smiling, she dropped her gaze to her cup and stared down into the deep, almost black liquid.
"No," She answered and looked up again, "But that is not uncommon and not why we are here."
Jauffre would have applauded her smooth change of topics if his mind wasn't so busy with thoughts of finally moving forward with this quest.
"Precisely," He said briskly, "Now, Martin, you asked me about Camoril yesterday and we didn't have a chance to talk. Prince Camoril was Uriel Septim's great-great uncle. He was a ruthless man; one willing to do anything to gain the throne. Thank the stars, he never did. His ambitions lead to the death of too many good folk. Never easy deaths either. Camoril made sure those that opposed him suffered greatly. Fittingly, his ambitions brought about his own downfall as well. He became obsessed with one of his cousins and she conspired against him while encouraging the attentions. On the night they were to finally be together, she stabbed him through the heart. His supporters were also taken care of, though not all of them," Jauffre paused to take a sip of coffee and was pleased to see that he had their complete attention, "Camoril was not known for his subtlety and he made little secret of his admiration for the Mythic Dawn. Yet one thing he managed to keep quiet was the discreet placement of several of the agents in the Council. Two were found out and there were others that fell under suspicion. Even today there are whispers of rumors and the Mythic Dawn has given Camoril's name a place of honor among them. For all his deceit and murder, it was allowed that he was buried with other royalty, hence Green Emperor Way," His dark eyes were on the Elf and he continued in a patient voice, "His tomb lies just beyond the east tower, it all fits."
The Elf nodded in agreement. Her hands circled the coffee mug and she leaned forward, sitting up straighter.
"Meaning I will have to be watching from eleven on, correct? Or does the sun clear the tower later?"
Jauffre looked at her in surprise, wondering if she knew instinctively he would appoint the task to her or whether she felt it was her duty to see this through.
"You just assume it will be you?" He questioned, truly curious about her thought process.
Katryn's face was impassive; there wasn't even the slightest alarm she could be wrong. Calmly, she took a sip of coffee before answering.
"Why wouldn't I? Baurus is too easily recognizable and Steffan can't spare him. Also you yourself told me you need your other charges here for protection. Those Mythic Dawn agents that would identify me are dead so, yes, I assume it will be me."